


You, you, you

by MemeKonVLD (MemeKonYA)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Klance Secret Santa 2016, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKonYA/pseuds/MemeKonVLD
Summary: Keith watches as Lance finishes the last of the Galran ships, shooting it up precisely and fast as they both weave in and out of its attacks, Keith’s lion already in critical condition, and Lance’s not doing any better, from the stats showing up on his screen.Keith sees the last enemy shot before the ship blows up at about the same time Lance does, but his lion’s slower, not built for pure agility like red is, and Keith knows Lance won’t be able to dodge it in time.  He doesn’t think. He just leaps.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for monsterkookie on tumblr, for the Klance Secret Santa exchange.

Keith watches as Lance finishes the last of the Galran ships, shooting it up precisely and fast as they both weave in and out of its attacks, Keith’s lion already in critical condition, and Lance’s not doing any better, from the stats showing up on his screen.

Keith sees the last enemy shot before the ship blows up at about the same time Lance does, but his lion’s slower, not built for pure agility like red is, and Keith knows Lance won’t be able to dodge it in time.

He doesn’t think. He just leaps.

 

 

“Okay, okay, I contacted Allura. They have our coordinates, they’re coming for— _Holy cheese and crackers_. Are those— are those _real_?” Keith feels the blood loss more than ever, dizzy and lost, and having exactly zero clue as to what Lance could be referring to, his face streaked with dirt, his eyes wide and set slightly above his own head.

“ _What are you talking about?_ ” He gasps out, hissing when he accidentally jostles his injured arm.

Lance looks down at Keith’s arm and grimaces. “Nothing, buddy. Let me—” He starts taking off his leg armor, and Keith can only stare at him in confusion as Lance grumbles his way through ripping the fabric of the suit underneath up.

His vision goes fuzzy a couple of times as he watches Lance crawl a short distance away, sticking his hand and the torn pieces of clothing into what looks like a shallow lake, the surface of it shimmering and sparkling soft green under the light of the planet’s three moons.

Lance wrings the cloth a couple of times. Keith watches him, only hearing the sound of his own shallow breathing, with Lance completely focused on his task.

“Okay, buddy, neither of us is gonna like this,” Lance tells him when he crawls back to him, giving him a pained grin, “just don’t punch me. I’m still tender from that collision. And it’s bound to hurt you more than it will hurt me right now, _so_ —”

“ _Lance_ ,” he interrupts, “you’re rambling.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Okay— Oh boy, this was never my favorite drill,” Lance takes a couple of steadying breaths and Keith focuses his eyes on the wet, forlorn and sagging piece of cloth he’s holding onto briefly before looking back at Lance.

Lance tells him to brace himself, and Keith nods distractedly with his eyes still on him as Lance places one of the pieces of cloth over his injury. It stings, even with Lance being oh so careful as he cleans the wound (and that’s a sight to behold, Lance being so careful, so attentive— Keith aches deeper from that, and tries to quell the feeling, because it’s just _not the time or place_ for for that).

“Yeah, I know this sucks, man,” Lance tells him, as he keeps meticulously working on, “but you know what sucks even more? Infections. Those suck big time, you— _oh_.” Lance’s eyes widen as he stares at Keith’s arm, his hand halting mid motion. “ _Wha_ —” He tries to look down, but one of Lance’s hands stops him, grasping his chin with long, wet fingers.

“ _It’s nothing_ ,” Lance tells him, unconvincingly, as he looks him in the eye, “at all. Blood’s just not my thing, y’know.”

“Lance,” he tries again, narrowing his eyes. His vision’s getting blurry, but not blurry enough to not be able to read Lance’s face like an open book. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“What can I say, I’m an honest guy.” Lance retorts, one hand still holding his chin on an almost bruising grip.

“Then tell me what’s going on,” Keith tries to sound challenging.

Lance snorts and looks him briefly in the eye before going back to his task.

“Cute,” he says. “Really cute.”

“Thanks,” Keith replies, and smirks when Lance rolls his eyes at him.

“Oh-kay,” Lance mumbles under his breath after a few seconds of silence, and drops the used strip of fabric to the ground, grabbing the second one. He looks Keith in the eye and says, “this is the part that hurts.” “The part before hurt too— _fuck_ ,” “Sorry, sorry. But it’s like ripping off a bandaid, okay?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith repeats, because that’s all that’s going through his head as Lance presses the cloth down on him, firmly. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

His mind is a steady chorus of cursing as he slips right into unconsciousness.

 

The first thing he notices after emerging out of the cryopod (and it’s alarming that he’s gotten somewhat used to that particular feeling of— just kinda coming to being, one moment not really feeling a thing, and the next one just _going back to life_ ) is that Hunk and Lance seem to have set camp in the wing, things strewn around where they’re both collapsed on matching sleeping bags, sleeping soundly.

The second thing he notices, when he starts making his clumsy way towards them, is that his feet are purple. And furry.

“ _What._ ”

And so are his hands, he notices, as he raises them up and inspects them, breathing going erratic.

“ _What is_ —”

“ _Keith_ ,” There are hands on his shoulders, long fingers digging into the flesh and bone there as he stares at his shaking hands— his shaking, purple, _clawed_ hands. “Hey Keith, dude, look at me. Look at me.”

“What’s going on,” he chokes out, “what’s this—” He lets a hand wander towards his head, and finds large, sensitive ears that twitch and sting when he tugs on them carelessly. “ _What am I_?”

“ _You_ ,” Lance tells him, as he gets his hands on Keith’s face and makes him look him the eye. “That’s who you are. You are Keith. The red lion pilot of team Voltron, the guy who thinks crop tops are in, the impulsive guy who drives me insane. _You_.”

“Leave my crop top jacket out of this,” he says, automatic, and the comment— the _moment itself_ is absurdly _ridiculous_ — so ridiculous that he kinda starts laughing— and laughing and laughing— laughing until he’s leaning into Lance, holding his shoulders to hold himself upright, gasping out peels of laughter that sound painful to his own ears, as he buries his face on the crook of Lance’s neck, unthinking.

He hears some soft rustling, and feels his ears _twitch_ in response. He tries not to think about that and just peers over Lance’s shoulder.

Hunk smiles at him as he picks some of the stuff from the floor up. He makes a couple of gestures at Keith that Keith can’t really understand on their own, but is still pretty sure mean that he’s leaving. Keith nods. He stops clutching one of Lance’s shoulders to give Hunk a small wave that Hunk returns before walking out.

As soon as Hunk’s back is out of sight, he puts his hand back on Lance’s shoulder, feeling in need of something to keep him steady.

“You _saw_.” He says after a while, voice rough, throat hurting as he swallows around the lump in it. “You _knew_.”

He feels Lance’s arms around him. He stiffens at the contact at first, but as Lance’s palms spread over his back, he relaxes into the touch.

They’ve never— they’ve never hugged. It feels weird. Warm. Close.

—It feels like something Keith has wanted for an embarrassingly long time.

“Sorry,” Lance tells him, and they’re so close that the words vibrate on Keith’s skin. “I didn’t think it was a good time for you to freak out, you know?”

Keith nods. His breathing has steadied. His heartbeat is still racing, however, with his chest pressed to Lance, and Lance’s hands on him.

He knows he shouldn’t be focusing on that, shouldn’t be thinking about the enormous crush he has for Lance, and about how nice it feels to hug him, after having wondered how that felt for so long. Lance is tactile, he hugs Hunk, and messes with Pidge’s hair, and kisses the back of Allura’s hand when she’s feeling up to that song and dance, and he doesn’t leave Keith out, but Keith is— Keith is intense about his wants. He wants everything, always. He’s 0 or 100, with no in between, and Lance isn’t an exception.

— He shouldn’t but he is. It’s— it’s better than freaking out. Better than paying attention to all the voices inside of him, hurling question after question after question: _What am I? What is this? How is this possible? Is this why I never felt at home on Earth?_

_What is going to happen now?_

“You’re freaking out _now_ , aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, and digs his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on the scent of Lance’s skin (so much stronger than ever before), on the sound of his breathing (so stark in the silence of the room, so easy to pick, _easier than ever before_ ), on the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Okay,” Lance says, and rubs his back soothingly, if a little awkwardly. “You know, the ears are kinda cute.”

“ _Lance_.”

“Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

Lance laughs softly, and squeezes him the slightest bit.

That does it.

It’s not perfect, and it doesn’t make the uncertainty inside him fade away, but it makes his brain quiet down, reduced to pressure and warmth and the way Lance is all angles.

“It’s gonna be fine, buddy,” Lance whispers, in that tone he reserves for situations like this one, serious and intimate.

Keith nods, and finally moves his hands from Lance’s shoulders to hug him back, holding onto the back of his shirt.

“Okay.”

Keith believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come and hang out with me on tumblr!](http://memekon.tumblr.com)


End file.
